Eightball Amp Mjg Anotha Day In Tha Hood Lyrics

Anotha Day In Tha Hood Lyrics

[ VERSE 1: Eightball ]



 Eightball the Fat Mac must express



 While a nigga's gettin zooted from the potent-ass sess



 Lookin back, damn, I was wild as a juvenile



 Mama showed love and she struggled for her only child



 But like my dad I was stuck in the streets



 I never wanted to work hard, cause that shit ain't for me



 Back then only 16, ignorant and curious



 Mom's gettin periods cause I wasn't serious



 I said fuck school teachers and the church preachers



 I wanted to hang with my niggas with the street sweepers



 Back in the days sellin herbs on the [Name]



 Me and Squeaky doin city-wide talent shows



 Gettin dissed, gettin pissed cause of this shit



 Cause it's so hard in this muthafuckin business



 I said many times, "Mama, I'ma make you proud"



 But I could never leave the thug life of Orange Mound



 I'm on the corner drinkin Thunderbird, slingin rocks



 They in my hands cause the cops know 'bout the matchbox



 But I can't sell dope, rappin is the way, gee



 And this is just another day around the homies



 



 [ VERSE 2: MJG ]



 ..mid day, I was deep into a sleep



 Unconscious from that hay that they distribute on em streets



 My world was constantly spinnin from the Rmy that was in me



 And we ain't half-stepped on them blunts, we chiefed up plenty



 A penny to be earned in a day is what I'm looking for



 Hopin for, some kind of way to make a little more ducats



 Fuck it, shit that I just needed, I just stuck it



 Up, hell, nigga might as well



 Proceed to hustle like a p-i-m-p



 MJ fuckin G



 The nigga with the muthafuckin clout, no doubt



 The pimps is in the muthafuckin house



 Be up out [Name], black folk is takin over



 You know how I know? Gimme the mic and I show ya



 I teach ya, I reach ya with this pimpalistic knowledge



 The shit a nigga learned back in Break-A-Bitch College



 Started, to hustle at the age of 11



 Started makin money when a nigga turned 12



 Started to induldge at the age of 13



 At 14 a nigga flatfoot was raisin hell



 In the muthafuckin hood



 



 [ VERSE 3: Eightball ]



 So many rappers in this industry, I don't doubt



 That it's a bunch of niggas broke with a CD out



 It ain't new to me, cause me and MJG



 Had to struggle just to hustle down in Tennessee



 In Memphis, tryin to be a rapper



 But rappin don't mean shit to Elvis Presley-lovin crackers



 Plus I'm with a record label gankin me and fuckin me



 Niggas always promsisin me shit that I will never see



 Trick-buster always talkin 'bout we family



 But while I was rappin he was snortin up my royalty



 So I got smart, hit the streets and said fuck that



 That's when this nigga named T Money heard our first track



 Pack em up, move em out, straight down to Texas



 Me and JG ridin drop-top Lexus



 "Coming Out Hard" on the charts in the 'Billboard'



 Second album droppin and we waitin on our first award



 Niggas talkin cause the crew ain't walkin no mo'



 Them jealous busters tryin to start shit over hoes



 I don't know what is worse, livin bad or livin good



 But the whole world remind me of my neighborhood



 



 [ VERSE 4: MJG ]



 See, I'm a self-made hustler, trustin the 



 Niggas who think that two heads are better than one



 And ready to get the job done, son



 MJG gots game in the street sale



 That makes me get lifts in the studio



 Even though it was kind of hard as far as I can see



 Growin up in the Orange Mound Tennessee community



 Could it be the future had love for a nigga who



 Struggled through all type of shit for a bill or two?



 Still I do shows for my fans cause my fans buy my tapes



 And the tapes make my g's and the g's keeps me straight



 And I hate when the busters smile all in my face like a hoe



 And talk shit in the down low



 Look out, punk, mutha-fucka, sucka, niggas



 My finger's gettin tired of the trigger, dig a



 Grave, shit, cause I don't want his boys to have to deal 



 With the smell of the trick I just killed



 ???? if you can't hang with the stress, best



 Wipe the big 'S' off your muthafuckin chest



 Press issues, makin sure they fully understood



 'bout a young nigga life in the muthafuckin hood